


The Doll Maker

by MyHunnieBunns3112



Category: Original Work
Genre: 1950s, Dolls, F/M, Gore, Horror, Taxedermy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-12 01:14:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16863475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyHunnieBunns3112/pseuds/MyHunnieBunns3112
Summary: I just wanted her to be perfect, and now she is.





	The Doll Maker

She was perfect.

Beautiful eyes, button nose, full lips, clear skin, flowing hair. Christian.  
She was God’s perfect disciple.

If only they could see her now.

But she was still so beautiful to me.

Mary was her name, fitting really, society’s ideal citizen. No criminal record, volunteer worker, dedicated part-time employee, Prom Queen, straight ‘A’ student. Virgin.  
She was so much fun to break. My journey started with a single date.

I took her to the pictures, we saw Vertigo and shared a box of popcorn. She clung onto my hand the entire night, and oh! Did she look pretty when she was scared.  
The second date came soon after. 

I took her to the Halloween fair, I coaxed her into the horror house, on the roller coaster- anywhere that could bring back her deliciously terrified expression. 

The third date is where it gets interesting.

I told her it was going to be a surprise; she was so excited. She was practically bouncing in the seat of my Chevrolet Bel Air, the navy blue blindfold crinkling a bit with her large smile. 

I drove to the outskirts of our small town, I kept up her spirits by turning on the radio and continuing casual conversation. Her laughter reminded me of bells, a tiny jingling noise. I couldn’t wait to hear her screams.

I pulled up at the abandoned church, it was cold, dark and damp. Perfect.

“So are you gonna tell me where we are yet?” Mary teased as I helped her out of my car, “Just wait a little longer, sugar,” there goes that laugh again.  
I take her small porcelain hand in mine and slowly guide her up the cracked church steps, making sure to weave her around the decaying plant life that coated them, as not to give anything a way.  
As I creaked the large oak door open, I was greeted by a familiar sight. My sledge hammer, sewing kit, buttons and a variety of other tools- everything was just as I had left it this morning. 

I walked Mary towards the red blanket I had set up, it was large enough to encompass her small frame easily. I sat her down slowly, letting her adjust and feel the sensation of the soft fabric against her smooth legs.  
“Oh! What’s this babe?” she questions sweetly, her smile contrasting with the dark surroundings “Sugar, we’ve been over this,” I said in a faux whine, “I’m not telling you the surprise,” “but babe! Come on please tell me! I’m dying over here!” she complained as a pout formed on her expression. 

I didn’t answer her that time as I was focused on setting up the citrus candles around my work station, covers up the smell. At the strike of a match she gasped, “Is this a picnic! Oh babe you know how I love picnics!” she bubbled, squirming in excitement.  
Again I didn’t answer.

Once I was finished with the candles, allowing the orange glow to fill the room, I slowly wandered over to my work bench and carefully lifted the sledge hammer.

“Are you ready for your surprise now Sugar?” I asked excitedly, a genuine smile plastered to my face “You’ve only made me wait a millennium,” she teased as I silently rode the hammer above my head.

CRUNCH!

It took a few moments for everything to sink in before she started screaming bloody murder, quite literally. 

Her shrill screams echoed off the church’s stone walls beautifully, tears leaked from her eyes in waterfalls and soaked into the blindfold as she grasped at her foot, the ankle bones just having been subject to my sledge hammer’s blow.

CRUNCH!

Her other ankle became victim. Her screams practically doubled in intensity. Everything was perfect.

Why her ankles? I hear you ask. The answer is running, by shattering her ankles I limited her movement conveniently while also allowing no room for potentially lethal blows, that was to come later.  
She’s going to become such a doll!

My process starts with Mary’s deflowering. What kind of doll would she be if she wasn’t played with?  
She fought back at the start, then she regressed to more tears, prayers and bouts of silence. The she gave up, staring lifelessly at the stone grey wall in front of her, unmoving.  
The second step was the alterations. 

I tied her to a wooden chair, her forearms strapped to the arm-rests and her legs strapped together.  
I began with her pretty blonde hair, gave it a trim so it reached her shoulders in the popular ‘bob’ style going around.

Then I moved onto her fingernails, I pushed back her cuticles, filled and buffed them then painted them with a glossy white varnish.

When I stood back to admire my handy-work, Mary’s tears had started to dry and her eyes had lost that spark of life that they had before, but that could be fixed. 

“Mary,” I began as I wiped at her damp cheeks “Why are you still sad? I’m making you perfect, you could at least thank me!” Her tears started again.

She was such an ungrateful sow. 

“Y’know Mary, You’re my favourite subject yet, you’re the prettiest one I’m every going to make! Yet you’re sitting there, ungrateful and sad!” I exclaimed angrily, can’t she see I’m helping her?!  
“I was going to let you live a little while longer y’know but with all this complaining going on, I’m very tempted to kill you sooner, hmm?” I crouched down in front of her and gently placed my hand on her cheek again “Do you have anything to say to that? Huh, Mary?”

Her green eyes met mine and in a raspy, broken voice, she answered “Please. Please just kill me, return me to god’s hands and end my suffering,” she paused for a moment to catch her breath, “Let me die you demon,” my frown deepened.  
She didn’t want to see her final result? She didn’t want to be perfect? May as well return her to her false god then. 

I stood wordlessly and moved behind her, placing my hands on either side of her face, I gripped tightly and with a final movement, I expertly jerked my hands to the left and several short, sharp cracking noises followed.

“Ut Satanas anima tua, et donum,”

Your soul to Satan, I gift. 

Mary may be dead now, but the hard work has only begun.

I unstrapped her limp frame from the chair and moved her over to the stone alter that was placed at the large room. I placed her on her back and proceeded to remove her clothing, a white blouse and a blue polka-dot skirt.

How innocent.

Again I travelled over to my work bench and grabbed my thick leather gloves, sewing kit, a large tub, my pre-made mannequin made from wood, a bag of wool and a few other various tools.

I started with her stomach, my large skinning knife plunging unto her stomach and marking the start of her skin’s removal. From her stomach I moved up, slicing off the skin from her ribs and decollate in a continuous peel. Then I removed my knife’s blade and started at the stomach again and worked my way down past her pubis and continued my way down her right leg, all the way to her foot, removing all the skin from her legs circumference.  
I moved over to the left leg and followed the same procedure as her right. Once I was satisfied I moved back to her shoulders and began to remove the porcelain skin from her right arm. Then her left. Then her back, scalp and face. I also took special care to preserve her beautiful blonde hair and fingernails. 

When the slow skinning process was over, I quickly swabbed down the skin with a borax solution to dry and prep the skin before I buried the body in a makeshift grave behind the church.  
Then the real work begins. 

I lay out the skin on the alter, and place my homemade mannequin over it in my desired positioning, before I grab my size seven needle and black thread. I cross-stitch her back together slowly, taking my time and double checking periodically for mistakes in my delicate little stitches.

It is so therapeutic to watch my art take form. 

Once she was mostly finished, I utilized the discrete gaps I left along her body to allow for my wool stuffing to be inserted. I allowed the fluffy material to fill her sagging skin to a plump, smooth finish without causing an unnatural bulge under her skin. I sewed the gaps together when the wool was finished and I moved to grab her fingernails and my pot of gorilla glue. 

One by one I slowly attached the fingernails onto their corresponding fingers and cleaned up any visible glue as well as patched any chips in the varnish.

The makeup was to be completed next, I applied a thin layer of face powder to her entire body, just to cover any small imperfections, then I added some barbie pink coloured lipstick and filled in her eyebrows lightly. As a finishing touch I added a rosy shade of blusher to her cheeks, shoulders, elbows and knees to give a natural variation to her skin tone. 

The next step was her eyes, for this I was going to use some translucent fishing line instead of my usual black thread. I stitched her eyes closed using a ladder stitch to keep the seams hidden and then I grabbed my large black buttons, they were roughly the size of a penny each. I stitched them onto her eyelids carefully, so I didn’t rip the delicate skin. Lastly I switched back to my original black thread and added three decorative ‘X’ shaped stitches to both ends of her mouth and travelling up her cheeks.  
The final step was to dress her. The day before this I had prepared a cute, white baby-doll style slip at home, it was opaque and had little faux fur attachments at the hems. Perfect for her. The ensemble also included some thigh high stockings with bows around the elastic bands and some white leather flats with sequins along the cuff.

The cutest outfit for the cutest doll. 

With her stitched, dressed and complete it was time to add her to my collection. 

I picked Mary up and carried her out to my car and placed her down on the backseat gently. The I briskly walked back inside, cleaned and collected my tools before exiting the church again and storing all my equipment in the boot of my car before I jumped in the driver’s seat and started my journey home.

~~ 

I shut the leather bound book with a satisfying thud and stood from my desk and wandered over to my oak bookshelf that was placed against the wall of my study. VOLUME 23: Mary Catherine Johnson will be a lovely addition to my other works. The doll herself fit in so well with the others I’ve collected and she seemed so perfect when paired with another doll of mine called Chloe (VOLUME 16), their blonde hair matched each other’s so fittingly. 

With everything out of the way, I was planning to rest for a few days before creating a new friend to add to my collection.

**Author's Note:**

> this was really bad I'm sorry, i wrote it for my english class and i was kinda happy with it (?) so i posted it here.


End file.
